Darkness was reigning in the cold and quiet dungeon.
The silence, absorbed by the stained with blood stone walls, was filled with the unsubstantial breath of death.
The two figures in the middle of the huge, yet empty room, a man and a serpent, were standing peacefully next to each other.
The snake, positioned a meter away from the human, was curled up, facing its owner, who had his eyes closed.
He enjoyed the darkness. It was making him stronger and content, bringing him satisfaction and happiness. It was where he belonged. Among the shades of black. Among the shadows of the death.
The blackness and the opaque were like a kingdom to him, whose ruler was he himself. The Dark Lord.
The large metallic door behind him suddenly opened with a creak. The snake lifted its head and, looking at the three men entering the room, hissed. One of the deatheaters, who had just come in, stepped forward and bowed.
‘We’ve captured him, my lord.’ he said with awe.
‘Leave me alone with him.’ required a low, diabolical voice in a silent response.
As two of the men left the dungeon, closing the door, the third fell to his knees on the cold marble floor. He was young, maybe in his late twenties, but the wrinkles on his face and the bags under his eyes were making him look older than he actually was.
‘Please don’t kill me!’ the defenseless man cried with desperation.
Lord Voldemort’s eyes opened.
All this time he hadn’t moved a centimeter. He had stood, with his eyes shut, not bothering to turn around to see who had entered or who had been talking to him. In his opinion, that would had been a waste of time. Either way someone would had paid with his life. The deatheathers or the man with filthy blood who now was begging him for mercy.
It actually didn’t matter.
It was all about satisfying the need to kill, the desire to see the light of life, in one’s eyes, fading and the hunger for death.
‘I…I’m begging you!’ the man kneeling on the floor spoke again.
The Dark Lord slowly turned around and met the mudblood’s eyes. Like a vulture waiting eagerly for his prey, he raced his wand to the other man’s forehead.
In that moment the frightened wizard on the floor knew everything was over. The last fiber hope in his soul evaporated as he saw the hunger in the inhuman eyes opposite him. Expecting the cold embrace of death, his heart started galloping desperately, trying to utilize its last moments of functioning. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end of his life.
‘Crucio’ shouted the harsh emotionless voice.
Pain travelled throughout the cursed man’s body, he curled up on the cold floor and started screaming in pain.
Soon the long terrifying sounds mixed with a low and dark, maniacal laugh and echoed in the dungeon.
That was what was making Voldemort content. The suffering of his victims. The pain written on their faces. The desperation in their voices.
From his point of view, neither of them deserved to be alive. Not when their death was bringing such extraordinary sensations throughout his body. Neither of them… nor the muggles, nor the half-blood’s, nor even some of the purebloods…
They all deserved to die.
Triumphant in his mind of the logic that he held, he laughed one last time and the screams stopped.
The room became quiet again. The only sounds were the barely breathing man, lying on the floor and the sound from slitting, as the snake started moving and coming closer and closer to its dinner.
…They all deserved to die…
‘Avada Kedavra’ hissed a voice. A voice so alive, and yet so dead.
The voice of the Devil.
The voice of the Death.
This fan fiction is written for patronus_charm's Mumford and sons challenge. (I adore Mumford and sons! :D)
The quote that I used is ‘Triumphant in your mind of the logic that you hold’ (from the flawless song ‘Where Are You Now’)
I had wonderful time writing this one-shot so hope you like it!
Thanks for reading this and don’t forget to leave a review - I would be happy to know what you think about it.
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